


Call of Claymore [1]

by VaughnPerm



Series: Call of Claymore [1]
Category: Call of Duty (Video Games), Call of Duty 1, Call of Duty: Classic
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, American Campaign, British Campaign, Brother-Sister Relationships, Call of Duty Classic, Campaign in Writing, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Love, Love Triangles, Parody, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Russian Campaign, Unrequited Love, War, World War II, super humans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2019-07-12 07:20:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15990380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VaughnPerm/pseuds/VaughnPerm
Summary: The world has been blessed with super humans- women from Campaign Laconic Analyzation Youths More, often referred to as the CLAYmore Association, these women being Claymores. Unable to feel pain, or anything, they are sent to fight for all sides of the war that just happen to be paying the heartiest.- Julie Martin, sent to fight for the Americans, find trouble with her sergeants and a young boy she's made friends with. Her fight comes to her learning about her freedom to be herself.- John Davis, a young girl often referred to as Rico, must come to terms with her love of her mentor but also her loss of him, after their long history together.- Alexei Ivanovich Voronin, a little girl fighting her way through Russia with a man who considers her his sister.(CALL OF DUTY DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. THIS IS SIMPLY BEING WRITTEN AS AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE, OR A PARODY.)





	1. Black and White

**Author's Note:**

> So, I really hope you all like this. I began writing this a little around the beginning of August 2018, but the truth is I have created all these characters, INCLUDING for all of the other Call of Duties, a little around the middle of 2012. It's been this large project that I've enjoyed doing, but I've never been able to really share it with anyone because, of course, it was all in my head and on my laptop. But now that I feel as if I'm old enough for my writing to make just a little bit of sense, I've decided to finally write it. I hope you enjoy. (CALL OF DUTY DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. THIS IS SIMPLY BEING WRITTEN AS AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE, OR A PARODY.)

Outskirts of Toccoa, Georgia, United States of America

August 1, 1942

9 A.M.

“In the beginning it was all black and white,” – Maureen O’Hara

 

“In the war that changed the world, victory was not achieved by one man, but by the lives of many. Across the battlefields of Europe, many nations united to reach one goal: Berlin,” the young man said, ruffling the papers back down into his lap. His small speech had been half-ignored from the two women that sat on the opposite side of the car, the tall Middle-Easterner picking at her bright red nails and the young American staring out the window at the passing Georgian countryside.

“So, that’s all I have so far,” the young man said hesitantly, avoiding the harsh eyes of the older woman as she looked down at him. “How is it?” he asked, finally looking back to the pair. The older woman blinked away her harshness and sighed, readjusting her yellow-rimmed glasses back up to her dark brown eyes. “It’s not bad so far, but it’ll only be useable if we win this war, Thomas,” she challenged, a small smile painted onto her clay skin.

The younger woman remained quiet, deciding whether or not to intervene. She listened to Thomas stutter quietly for a moment before whispering herself and answering the call to the doctor’s challenge, “When we win, doctor,” she said monotone, her eyes unmoved from the cows in the far by field. She heard Thomas gulp and let out and awkward cough, pleased that the doctor’s attention was off of him and onto the Claymore, but also now pitying the younger woman.

“Don’t backtalk, Julie. If you do that where you’re going you’ll get in trouble,” the doctor cruelly scoffed, a look of disgust on her face as she looked down at the Claymore in the seat next to her. Julie shrunk into her seat and let out a silent gasp, the air around her littered with fear. “I apologize, doctor,” Julie choked out so quietly it was almost inaudible.

Thomas watched as the doctor’s face of unpleasantness turned to anger, prepared to yell at the younger woman. The doctor opened her mouth, ready to yell, only to be interrupted by the abrupt stop of the car, causing the trio’s hearts to beat quickly in shock.

✲✲✲✲

“Welcome to Camp Toccoa, miss…?” An average looking man said to the two women, holding his hand out to shake the doctor’s hand. The doctor stared at him harshly, watching as he slowly retreated his hand back to his side once he realized she wasn’t going to shake. “Doctor Surayya El-Hashem, and you are?” the doctor asked him, waiting impatiently for his response, her arms crossed. “Captain Luther Foley,” he smiled. “And who is this young lady? The claymore, right?” he turned to Julie, his eyes kind. He held out his hand, awaiting hers.

Julie felt something weird in her chest as she reached her hand out to shake his. His hand was warm and soft, something she wouldn’t have expected from a captain in the military. His smile was kind and playful as he shook her hand gently, and she almost sighed as he pulled away. Despite the feelings pouring around awkwardly inside of her, she remained conserved on the outside, as if nothing was happening. Her eyes were blank brown as she introduced herself. “Julie Martin,” she almost whispered. Their eyes remained on each other as the conversation pursued.

 

✲✲✲✲

Camp Toccoa, Georgia, United States of America

August 10, 1942

9 A.M.

 

“Alright, listen up,” the young captain announced in an authoritative voice, gaining the attention of the even younger woman. Julie looked down from the blue sky which was clear of clouds and looked at Foley, her new captain that Dr. El-Hashem had hastily dropped her off with what felt like years ago, but in truth had only been a little after a week. She was silent, listening obediently to every word he omitted echoing in her head, forcing her to obey. She had been spaced out the entire morning, right up until now, where he spoke on the other side of the thin wooden fence. His hands were held neatly behind him, his lips in a thin line as he spoke. “Private Martin, you’re on the obstacle course and doing weapons training today,” he said, and his order processed. Martin began to turn on her heels to accompany her fellow soldiers before Foley’s voice rang out behind her, and she stopped.

“Wait, uh, we know we were told you didn’t need training and all, but Moody and I really want to see what a Claymore is capable of,” Foley said hesitantly to the Claymore before taking a small step closer to the barricade and speaking once again. His hands were still pressed on his back, but his face had loosened up and suddenly looked more sympathetic. “We’re-“ he paused, frustrated, “Well, just me, I guess; I don’t doubt what that lady told us,” he finished, and Martin let the silence linger momentarily before realizing she was required to respond. As she spoke, her voice was monotone, empty of any emotion. “Even if you did have any doubts, Captain Foley, I don’t blame you,” she stared at her captain, the latter of who gulped nervously before reassuring himself and smiling. “I don’t. I swear.”

✲✲✲✲

As Martin opened the gate and walked towards her squad, a familiar face looked over and smiled happily as if she wasn’t a murderous killing machine. “Julie! Good to see ya! How are you? Do you like the camp so far? Breakfast was gross, right?” Private Tom Elder spoke happily, bombarding her with questions and practically jumping at the chance to speak to her. She moved her lips into what she believed to be a small smile and quickly planned her answer to him, answering in the order he had asked. “I’m fine, I don’t have the right to complain even if I did have an issue, and I don’t have any taste buds,” he smiled until she said the last part, where he almost did jump on her. “Wait, that means you can’t taste ice cream or pop, right?”

Martin almost forced herself to laugh when suddenly Foley’s voice rang out into the air angrily- “Move it, ladies! This is not your Aunt Fanny’s dance!”

Martin sprang away from the private into the concrete tube, swiftly but awkwardly passing through until she emerged on the other side. She dove under the next obstacle with the same manner and frowned as she heard Foley’s voice again screaming, “Jump over ‘em! Come on Elder, get the land out!” Martin turned her heard to look behind her for Elder, who seemed to be farther behind than the others. She remembered when he told her he had been transferred because of an injury, and she hoped that Foley would remember that when he graded them on their performance. By the time Martin had turned back forward she had reached the barbed wire.

“Not bad, Martin!” Foley said to her as she was the first to reach it. “Now hit the dust and crawl forward under the barbed wire!” he ordered, and she obeyed. She dropped down into the mud and began crawling quickly through. She kept her head down towards her fists, praying her copper hair wouldn’t get caught in the wire as she crawled. She felt the mud seep into her clothes as she used her elbows to propel herself, struggling to find grip on the wet ground. Martin peered up at where a Sergeant sat with a machine gun pointed at a wall, and cringed as she realized what Foley and the sergeant planned on doing.

As if he had read her mind, Foley ordered the sergeant to fire the machine gun, and he quickly obeyed. The machine gun whirred for less than a second before it began spitting out bullets that whizzed right above Martin’s head into the wall left of her. “Stay down!” Foley yelled at some of the other privates which were feet behind her. She crawled out as she reached the end, springing up and jumping onto the next obstacle which was a ladder climb. Martin had jumped onto the ladder, already placing her halfway up, and reached the top in less than a second. As she jumped down she heard Foley scream at her peers to begin climbing, placing her in first.

Martin watched Elder and the rest climb over the wall and land in front of her, many of them taking large breaths and resting themselves as they landed, happy that the obstacle course was over. “Martin got first. A little girl beat all of you. Come on, guys,” Foley chuckled and a few guys groaned unhappily, but Elder grinned at her with his same goofy smile. “Private Martin, proceed through that door,” Foley pointed to her right at a door that led to the shooting grounds. “Sergeant Moody’s goinna take you through weapons training,” Martin turned around and began heading towards the door, the rest of the privates right on her heel. “No! The rest of you ladies stay here…”

Martin jogged through the door, expecting to be face-to-face with Moody, and was confused when she didn’t see him. Moody sensed her confusion and laughed. “Eyes up, Private,” Martin looked up at him, and he waved. “I’m up here, in the observation tower,” Moody said in his slight Southern drawl. “Go grab one of those M1A1 carbines from the table,” he ordered, and she obeyed, picking the gun up and studying it fleetingly before understanding every part of it, her brain absorbing it’s arrangement. “Alright, fire six rounds at the target while standing still,” he told her, and she did. Almost every bullet except for the last one had hit the center. He let out a loud laugh as she pulled her eye away from the barrel, and stared up at him. “Well, shit! That was impressive, Martin. Can you do that while moving though?” Moody challenged her, and Martin turned around, accepting. She walked slowly to her left, shooting the carbine at the target. For her, time slowed down, and she hit every shot perfectly.

This time as Martin looked up at her sergeant, he looked flustered, unsure what to say. Martin felt it hanging in the air, and lowered her weapon more to her side. “Well, god damn,” he finally said. “That brown lady wasn’t joking, you are pretty robot-like,” unsure how to respond, she gazed up at him with her big brown eyes. “Just… Move on to the next area. I want to see your sniping skills,” Martin opened the gate and picked up one of the Springfield rifles, quickly turning and unloading the entire mag into the target, hitting it around the center. She reloaded quickly and set the weapon down as she finished, and stared back up at the observation booth awaiting her order. Moody once again looked baffled before readjusting himself and snarling at her. “Okay, but how about an automatic? A Thompson’ll send a little girl like you sky rocketin’,”

“Maybe,” Martin spoke softly before setting the Springfield down and walking over to the table that held the Thompsons. As she picked it up, she turned it over and looked at both sides. Martin felt the ridges and notches in the gun, saving it like a file to her mind as she became familiar. She quit studying the weapon and turned towards the target, aimed, readjusted her footing and fired, sending out a mess of bullets that painted the target’s center black. Martin stared down at her heels and calculated that she had only moved a few centimeters back, and was impressed with herself. She wondered if Moody would be impressed also.

Moody smirked. “Well, you better not replace me,” the sergeant said, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. “Practice throwing some grenades and then go clean up. It’s almost lunch time and you’re covered in shit.”


	2. Pathfinder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foley and Moody argue about sending Martin on her first mission, but in the end it goes successfully. At the end, Foley and Martin share a moment together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe chapter 2 bois

Greenham Common, England

June 5, 1944

5:30 PM

“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,” – Edgar Allan Poe

 

 “I think she’d be useful for this mission, Lee. It’s pathfinding, we can’t send a lot of people in, and there’s going to be lots of enemies. She could be really useful,” Foley told his sergeant angrily, standing up from his chair. Moody had been fine up till Foley suggested they send Julie for the mission since it would be dangerous for a normal person. “She’s a little girl, Luther! I’m not sending her out to do marine’s works! You really want to give her the chance of replacing us? If we show the damn government that their robots are useful, they’ll probably replace the entire damn corps with ‘em! I don’t want her goin’!” Moody yelled back, slamming his fist on the table as he finished his speech.

Luther rubbed his temples and fell back into his chair in thought.  He cared about Lee’s opinion, but in this case, he couldn’t listen with an open mind. Luther was Lee’s friend, so he accepted Lee’s advice, but Luther was also his captain and couldn’t accept subordination. He thought about the pros and cons of sending Julie out on the mission- Pros? He’d only have to send her and one other person, she’d be quick, and as much as he hated to say it, she was replaceable- the Association could always just send them another Claymore. The cons? It would piss off Lee, she could die, or she could mess it up.

After thinking long and hard, Luther made his decision. He removed his hand from his face and looked up at his friend. “She’s going on the pathfinding mission whether you like it or not, Sergeant. I’ll send one person with her but that’s all I’m willing to risk. You’ll be staying behind with the rest of us while she completes her mission. Dismissed.”

✲✲✲✲

Outskirts of Ste. Mere-Eglise, France

June 5, 1944

11:30 PM

 

As Martin fell from the plane towards the ground, she felt something weird that she had never felt before. She couldn’t realize what it was, but it felt similar to what she felt when she had first met Foley. Martin pulled the cord for the parachute, slowly felling out from the plan and landing on the field. She looked around the French countryside, at the old houses, and at the moon. It was calming; she felt her nerves ease as the crickets and frogs made noise in the soft air. Martin pulled out her M1A1 Carbine and began walking towards her objective- to link up with a sergeant she had only met a few hours earlier.

Martin silently approached a faded brick wall and crouched, looking up at the small flourish of houses and scouting for enemies. A urinating soldier stood by a nearby tree surrounded by bushes, and Martin looked down her gun, and fired, shooting him in the head and killing him almost instantly. She went up towards bushes and hid in them, looking around once again. A large, white and brown house stood in front of her, quietly emitting beautiful orchestra music that perhaps belonged to the French family that once resided there, now long gone. To the left of the house stood an old horse stable.

Martin silently argued with herself about entering the house. For some odd reason, she wanted to go in, and sit and listen to the music. She knew she couldn’t, though. The house would be filled with men who wanted to kill her or worse. She blinked as the music excreted static, and then stopped all together. Disappointed, she turned towards the west and began hiking through the thin patch of grass, before coming across a dead man hanging by a parachute from a tree. “Oh, hello, sergeant Keith, I see you still have what I need,” Martin joked lightheartedly as she approached the corpse.

She stopped dead in her tracks when she heard men speaking German nearby. Martin calmed as it registered that they were unaware of the young American’s presence. She crouched anyway, making herself smaller to the human eye, and grabbed the legbag, swinging it onto her back with her Thompson submachine gun. She peered into the dark South-West, where the men the voices belonged to most likely were occupied. She took a deep breath and tightened her grip on her carbine, stepping forward into the dark abyss.

As she approached, she made out a small white bunker and a sand bagged barricade thanks to a light that was hooked to the building. Martin felt her heart beat increase as the second voice suddenly stopped mid-sentence, as in realization of her existence. Despite her heat beating rapidly in her bosom, she continued forward towards the entrance of the bunker. As she glanced inside from the barricade, she saw two Germans- one standing on the left, and the other hunched over the table on the right. She heard the crackling of a radio. “That bunker,” Martin thought to herself, “The perfect place to set up the beacon,”

The feel of the cold wood against Martin’s right cheek was comforting as she aimed down the sights and shot the standing man two times in the neck, and the hunched man three times- one in the neck and two in the chest. She heard their hearts stop beating, and at this, her heartbeat slowed, as if in beatitude. Martin ran into the room and leaped over the bodies to the doorway to the field beyond where a plan flew overhead, and hastily set-up the beacon.

As soon as she finished she heard the crackling noise of a radio, and suddenly a German man speaking out of it. As she looked over into the South-West, she saw moving vehicles, and suddenly a loud siren began ringing overhead. That wasn’t good- they had found the bodies of those she had murdered. More planes flew overhead and dropped little white orbs, though, and supplied her with her allies. If she was caught and murdered, she wouldn’t be alone.

As soon as they landed, a young voice called out, “Move out! Secure the perimeter!” it ordered. She looked at her surroundings; towards the west laid three houses similar to the musical one from earlier, and a small wall. Towards the East was where she had emerged from, including her trail of bodies. “You guys, over here!” another voice yelled back towards the three houses, and Martin turned, staring into the dark. “By the wall! Defensive positions, get down!” Martin began running towards the wall with the rest of her allies as bullets whizzed past her. As she reached the wall, a bomb of some sort fell from the sky and hit the center of the town, most likely killing many of the Germans. She peeked over the wall and analyzed the battlegrounds; four Germans on the top floor of the far right house, and none in the other two. As she began shooting the German on the right side, a bomb fell down and hit the house, killing him and god knows how many else.

Her allies began jumping the wall, running towards the house, hoping to seize it from their enemies close-quarters. Martin began to jump over the wall with them, only to hit her captain on the side of the head. Despite the gunshots, the screaming, and the bombs, a small blush took over Martin’s face. Foley, luckily did not notice her rose-red cheeks, and chuckled as he assisted her over the wall before following her. Her gaze switched between his pale red face and the men running towards the house, unsure of what to say or do, but her confusion was cut off as he began running away from her and towards the danger. She gathered herself quickly before running to the house, gun in hand.

Inside, the house burned, but the Germans did not care. They fought until blood gushed from their wounds. Until death.

The house was cleared in what seemed like less than a second. And somehow, in an even faster pace, the American troops exited through the backdoor into the walled backyard, where they immediately headed left towards the other two houses. In between the homes sat three Germans, who immediately began shooting as the Americans showed their face, dropping two of Martin’s allies, both of who let out a small groan as their last breath passed through their lips.

The troop progressed through, however, into the middle house. As soon as Martin stepped in the house, however, a bomb fell nearby and rumbled the ground, causing her to lose her footing and fall. As she fell she let out a small yelp, her bottom hitting the hard wooden floor. Some of the men ran past her into the house’s fancy living room, where they fought the Germans with many bullets and yells. Martin stood up after a small moment of relaxation amongst the bullets and joined her comrades, aiming down her sights and killing most of the enemies in the room herself. The Americans progressed into the second room, and then out of the house, where the headed into the backyard.

There stood Captain Foley, accompanied by a hole in the wall which led into what appeared to Martin to be a forest. “Everybody move! Come on!” he yelled, and Martin followed. They hiked through some sort of trench, and into the night.

 

 

✲✲✲✲

Ste. Mere-Eglise, France

June 6, 1944

12:20 AM

 

Nobody seemed to have landed where they were supposed to. Martin and Foley, who were in Baker company, had luckily found some others, but they had somehow had Able, Dog, and Fox company with join them also. It was a mess. Foley was having trouble keeping everyone under control, and Martin felt useless as she watched him yell at a couple privates for throwing rocks at an abandoned house’s windows.

It was comedic when they began their midnight mission and Foley was more relaxed than he had been when they were supposed to be preparing themselves, but Martin didn’t say anything. She decided she would keep her eyes on him to make sure he would be alright. Unlike her, she thought, he still felt things, meaning  he could become stressed. Julie would make sure that didn’t happen.

 “Alright, there’re two platoons of German paratroopers in that village. We need to eliminate them all. Is that understood?” Foley addressed the group of random company members a few hours before, briefing them on their simple yet difficult mission. They had all responded in a chorus of “yes sir”s.

✲✲✲✲

“Alright guys, get set to move. On my command!” Foley said the soldiers, all running alongside him as they rushed into battle. “Let’s go, let’s go!” He yelled in attempts to make them move faster, but in all honesty, they were tired and hungry. As they ran, Martin noticed the absence of frogs and crickets, and how the calming sound had been replaced by distant mortar fire and gunshots. Farther away, the sky was orange and littered with explosives and smoke. As she admired the fruit-colored sky, bullets zoomed past her and hit the dirt, causing her to move faster up to her captain, who smelled of anxiety and sweat.

“MG42s! Hit the dirt!” Foley yelled, and the advancing Americans obeyed in fear of being shot. A few bullets penetrated Martin’s left arm, causing her to flinch. Her blood leaked from the wound, and her arm made a weird noise before she let out a sigh and began suppressing fire. “Get suppressing fire on those MG42s!” Martin ordered a awkwardly fumbling private next to her, who blinked rapidly at her as he realized it was a woman. Despite her low rank, he obeyed, and began shooting towards the heavy guns fire. “Come on! We need to keep advancing! If we get caught here, we’re dead!” Foley hollered, his voice barely audible through the gunshots that seemed to be a thousand times louder in the cool air.

As they made their way to the industrial town, mortar shells fired around them, hitting some of the Americans and sending them flying back, dead. One landed right in front of Martin, who stumbled back and around the large hole it had created in the dirt. Martin sprinted up next to her captain, who had just finished shooting a German hiding behind a barricade. He turned to her and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to the left side of the top window the MG42 German shot from. The company regrouped where the captain stood, still holding Martin’s wrist tightly. Martin let him. She felt him shaking as he held her. “We need to clear out that building where the MG42 was shooting from. Martin,” Foley said, letting go of her wrist. “Help clear those buildings! Get some grenades in those windows!” he suggested, and she did. She heard men screaming after she threw the grenade in, and caught up to her captain, who had entered a burning building along with the entire squad.

Germans began shooting at them, a stray bullet that was originally aimed for her head hitting a young man to her left in the neck, killing him. This went on for what seemed like hours. They’d enter a new building, bullets would kill people, and Foley would tell her good job. At one point, Martin swore they had entered a church and through a graveyard. Eventually they had made their way to a Flakpanzer, which was shortly blown up by Martin under Foley’s orders. Martin was growing tired, and most of her fat had turned into sweat as she ran up to the next Flakpanzer and placed an explosive on it, jumping behind cover as a few stray bullets wound up in her legs. Around her, men screamed in pain as blood seeped from their wounds, smelling of gunshot powder. Martin watched as medics attempted to help, but their efforts failed.

Foley suddenly ran up to where she was hidden, plopping down next to her as a couple bullets flew overhead. “There’s only one Flakpanzer left,” Foley told her, breathing heavily, his chest heaving up and down. “I can do it,” Martin stared into his soft brown eyes, and he stared into her. “We still need to take out all of the Germans,” he said to her, and she did her small smile. “Yes, I know, I can do that also,” she replied once again before hopping the barricade and running through a church. Foley and the marines followed her, she felt it, and they fired at the Germans surrounding the Flakpanzer as she ran up to it and planted the explosive.

As Martin ran behind cover, a bullet hit her shoulder, shooting straight through. She ignored it and hit behind an old wall, saving her from any more. She let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding as the explosion rang through the air, signifying the end of the mission. She watched as Foley ran past her to a large wall that held back dirt and trees, and addressed his men.

“Alright, fellas, take five,” Foley told them all, and everyone sighed in unison. “-but listen up,” a few groans, “We’ll hold this place ‘til reinforced, but this is just one tiny village in a war and country full of ‘em, so our work has just begun,” Foley stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath before continuing, “For those who’ve seen your first action – welcome to the Big Time. For those who’ve seen it before, trust me, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. We’ll redeploy those German machine guns,” Foley pointed over to one of the MG42s that had shot her earlier, “setting up a defensive perimeter. Keep your guard up and your buddies in mind. Good work,” he finished, his eyes piercing at Julie.

 

 

 

✲✲✲✲

Ste. Mere-Eglise, France

June 6, 1944

12:34 AM

 

“Alright, you mind removing all that so I can patch you up?” Foley asked from behind Martin, causing her to perk up and turn to her captain. She was confused, not understanding what he meant. “I’m sorry, captain?” She asked as politely as possible. She fidgeted on the crate she sat on around the fire, surrounded by privates and sergeants alike. They all stared at either her or Foley, just as confused as she was. “I- Just,” Foley stuttered awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away from her. “Come with me. I need you outside, Martin,”

Martin stood and brushed some of the dirt off her blood stained pants, and followed him outside in the night air. He walked over to the last Flakpanzer she had exploded earlier and gestured for her to sit down, which she did. “I saw you get shot,” he said bluntly before adding on, “a lot,” Martin blinked, and watched as her captain got on his knees so that he was shorter than her five-four frame. “Yes, captain, I did. But don’t worry, I don’t feel any of it,” Martin smiled absently, waving her hands in the same manner. She couldn’t feel pain, but she could feel his.

His mind seemed occupied as he pulled out a clean dress she assumed he had found, along with some staples and a knife. “Take your shirt off,” he ordered her, but not in the strong voice he usually used. This time, his voice was soft, and she felt her body vibrate as he told her. She didn’t remove her eyes from his face as she removed her coat and unbuttoned her shirt, revealing her tight black bra. His face was slightly red, as if he was blushing, but she couldn’t tell much since his face had always seemed a bit red to her.

As she sat there in the dim light, almost completely exposed, he cut a long, even strip from the dress with the knife, and grabbed her forearm gently, bringing it to his warm frame and wrapping the bandage around her wounds, stapling the cloth together as he finished. “Do you really not feel any pain?” his grip tightened slightly as he asked, looking up into Martin’s eyes. Her face remained the same as it usually had, except for slight red on her cheeks. “I don’t, but some of my sisters do,” she replied, adding the part about her sisters to make him feel a bit better. He sighed and began wrapping her shoulder in silence.

“I’m sorry I don’t feel pain, captain,” Martin finally said as he finished up with her shoulder. He backed away from her, a slightly shocked expression on his face. “Why would you be sorry about that?” he asked her, his shock turning into fondness. Foley swore he saw her eyes become more vivid as she breathily answered him in her soft voice, “If I can’t feel pain, what else could I possibly feel?”


	3. Ste. Mere Eglise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foley and Martin capture a part of Ste. Mere Eglise, and she ends up on an intense road trip with Moody and Elder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big ballshthththhtee im tired

Ste. Mere-Eglise, France

June 6, 1944

7:30 AM

“In me the tiger sniffs the rose,” – Siegfried Sassoon

 

Martin awoke to the sound of mortars a few hours later, her pleasant dreams interrupted by the whistling of falling shells and the ground shaking explosions. “Up! Get up! Wake it and shake it!” a soldier screamed right next to her ear. “The Germans are bringing your coffee!” the voice yelled again, even louder. Martin’s eyes felt bloodshot and her muscles felt tight, but she grabbed her carbine and stood up, the explosions wringing around her. “Off the streets! Mortars!” Foley yelled, running in front of her into a building.

Martin ran to him, jumping in the building after him as she felt the ground shake behind her. The squad followed after her into the structure, taking refuge as the mortars struck overhead. Suddenly the mortar attacks stopped, causing a few of the men to sigh. “Alright, the mortars are taking a break,” said Foley. The squad ran out into the streets behind barricades and began shooting oncoming Germans. As they repelled the West German counterattack, Foley’s voice suddenly rang out, “We got company! Tiger, moving in from the East!” A few of the squad mates turned around, except Martin, who continued to shoot her carbine into the fighting Germans. “Behind you!” a soldier yelled next to her, causing her to turn. As the Tiger tank slowly approached, it unleashed a storm of machine gun bullets, killing a few of the Americans as they ran for cover behind a wall.

“Martin! There’s a panzerfaust in the church, go retrieve it, and take this mother out. Jackson, Baker, follow me! We’re going to draw out it’s fire,” Foley ordered, a chorus of “yes sir” following afterward. Martin ran down the street, shooting Germans that blocked her path to the church. Behind her, machine gun bullets dashed through the air in attempts to hit her comrades. Martin shot a German with her pistol as she jumped in the church, entering through the hole in the side that had been created with a tank, and grabbed the panzerfaust they laid on a crate in front of her.

Martin ran back outside, prepared to shoot the tank, killing those inside of it. She ran out of the old church and squeezed the trigger, the shell hitting the Tiger tank, and exploding it.  “Martin,” Foley yelled to her, “back to the church with me! The rest of you, hold this position,” Martin chased after Foley as he entered the church, running past her squad and into the holy home with him. As she entered the church, other soldiers shot out of windows to the South, and as she approached, she saw why. In the graveyard sat many Germans, shooting at them in hopes of a successful counterattack. Martin perched herself on a window and began shooting into the ground, listening to their screams as they yelled curses in their Native tongue before thumping to the ground and dying. As the Germans realized they were losing too many men, they began retreating. “Lewis, Franklin, stay here and continue to shoot! Martin, the rest of you, come with me, we’re pushing these bastards back!” Foley shouted before heading out the church to North with the squad, shuffling across the road only to meet the Southwest German resistance.

As bullets flew around Martin, one stabbed her leg as she jumped behind cover next to Moody, who she bumped into slightly as she dove for cover. He snarled at her and shot a German before he looked at her with his harsh gaze and asked, “Where’s Foley? My squad and I were sent as back-up,” Moody grabbed Martin’s arm and pulled her farther into cover as a bullet whizzed past her head. He glanced around her nervously, looking for the captain. Martin turned around and pointed at a figure hunched over the wall, firing with a Thompson. “There,” she said, turning back to the sergeant.

Moody was about to say something, but before he could, a private ran up to the MG42 next to them and shot into the crowd of Germans, eliminating most of them and causing the rest of them to run. “They’re running!” the private yelled, causing Martin to hop the fence and chase them, firing bullets into their backside. “Stay low, Martin! God damnit!” she heard Moody call out behind her as she ran out of view, still firing off her carbine. “Follow Martin! Push them back!” she heard Foley yell as she ran, turning a corner and shooting the last German in sight. “Good, good, Regroup! Regroup!” Foley yelled, causing the soldiers to sprint up to him like moths to a flame.

As Martin made her to his side, a mortar dropped to close for her liking. “Mortars, we need to get to the church,” she said loudly, yelling alongside her allies to the location. As they turned the corner, a Tiger tank smash through an old house, roaring bullets angrily at the Americans, who hid behind the cold bricks of old store’s patio. Martin thought ways to eliminate the tiger tank and bring her people to safety, finally remembering the boxes of Panzerfaust in the church. “Foley,” Martin crawled over to her captain, placing her small hand on his left shoulder, causing him to switch his perspective to her. “I’m going to the church for the Panzerfaust,” she told him before standing and running across the street, bullets flying past her as the tank refocused its fire unto her.

She heard someone scream her name behind her as she dived into an alleyway, pulling out her pistol midair and shooting a German that came into focus. She stood up quickly and ran through, turning right as soon as she could, and fired a round into a man’s face. As Martin ran down the alleyway, she switched from her pistol to her carbine, passing a wooden fence, which suddenly exploded and was replaced by the Tiger tank. Martin ran into a building gun first, firing bullets into any man she saw wearing the German uniform.

The house shook and she fell suddenly, her ear filled with fog. As she turned her head in confusion, a giant hole from the Tank appeared, and she ran out of the house and towards the church, not caring about the Germans in her path that she killed or the Tiger right on her heels. As she hoped once again into the church, she grabbed the Panzerfaust and ran outside, shooting the damn tank and ending it once and for all.

She waited patiently as her squad regrouped on her, Foley with a big smile on his face, and Moody a frown. “Damn good job, Martin,” he patted her back, a small blush filling her. Before a new order could be given, a private ran up from the South, his face red from lack of breath. “Sir, German mortar teams have been spotted at the south,” he panted. “Shit, alright. Team, let’s take ‘em out quick. Move out!” Foley called out, swishing his hand through the air as he ran towards the enemy.

As they made it to the large field, bullets began hurtling towards them, hitting a few of the Americans before they fell dead.  Dead cows painted the beautiful green field, and Martin wondered bitterly if the Germans had killed the defenseless animals. She ran up to cover behind a tree, hoping she wouldn’t have to eventually take cover behind one of the cows. She turned awkwardly from the tree, firing her carbine into a nest, satisfied as she heard the absence of the gun.

As she ran out, a mortar landed right in front of her, splashing dirt all over her already filthy uniform. The squad jumped into a trench, traveling safely to a small millhouse before exiting. As Miller watched Moody enter the millhouse, she was confused, but her dubiety was cleared when she approached and looked at an old black French car. Moody pulled out of the millhouse and parked next to Martin and Foley, who only stared. Elder smiled as he hung out of the back, seemingly having been there the entire time. “Martin, get in the car,” Foley told her as Moody grumbled. Moody rolled his eyes as Martin walked around and jumped in the passenger seat.

She listened as Moody sighed and looked over to the captain. “Okay, Captain, assuming we get back to the battalion in this rolling junkyard, what do I tell ‘em?” Moody asked, his elbow hanging out of the window as he spoke.  Foley pulled out a piece of paper from his breast pocket and handed it to Moody, who placed it in his own. “Give this directly to the Major. Tell him we secured the town , but might not be able to hold it for very long if we don’t get relieved soon. Got that, sergeant?”

“Oh, yes sir, you bet. We ride through enemy lines in a French tin can. Wanna paint a bullseye on it, sir?” Moody joked, earning a small giggle from Elder who resided in the backseat. Foley chuckled, “I’m pretty sure that won’t be necessary, Sarge. Unless you have a better idea- or a radio that works, carry on. Have a nice day,” Foley smeared, slapping the car door before walking away.

As Moody changed the gears and began driving, Elder plopped his head between the seats and looked at Martin. “Aw man, this is nuts! I can’t believe we’re about to do this,” he said to her quietly. As Martin began to respond, Moody interrupted her, his thick voice filling the car. “You better believe it, kid, unless you wanna sprout your wings and fly. It’s only six miles, Elder. Just shut up and do your damn job like Martin does.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

✲✲✲✲

Route N13, Normandy, France

June 6, 1944

8:15 AM

 

“Alright, so since midnight, there’s been no contact with HQ, no radio response, whatever the hell. Martin,” Moody said, looking at her momentarily before looking back to the road. “How long has it been since we left?” he asked her, and she looked up from the map where she wrote. “Around fifteen minutes, sergeant. We should reach our target soon,” Martin spoke, looking out of the car’s window at the grey sky and the dark green trees. The wind shuffled the trees, waving at her. “It feels like it’s been fifteen hours,” Elder joked, trying to lighten the mood, but only earning a displeased noise from Moody.

“Germans,” Moody stated simply as they approached two men running across the street, causing Martin to adjust her Thompson in hand, shooting out the window towards the enemy who hid behind the fence. Moody sped up the car and she missed, frowning. “Ha, guess you can’t shoot that well in a car,” Moody chuckled. Martin ignored him and continued to stare out the car window, the car vibrating as it drove over the road. Martin watched out for enemies from the side, finding none as they drove. She turned forward as she heard Elder’s shakey voice. “Uh, uh,” he began stuttering, pointing past her up the road. “that’s a- that’s a German roadblock! What now?” he asked, his question directed towards Martin but answered by Moody.

Moody let out a loud sigh. “Gee, I don’t know, how about you try shootin’ the bastards!” He responded sarcastically, causing Elder to lean back in his seat, holding his Thompson against his chest. Martin leaned out her window and began shoot, releasing a spray of bullets on the roadblock. As they approached, a tank stared down at them. “Shooting isn’t going to work, Sergeant-“ Martin began, being cut off suddenly as Moody swerved the car through the fence, heading off road. “Shit!” Elder leaped in the backseat as the crashed through. On the other hand, Moody laughed. “Adios, amigos!” he hollered, shifting the gears, speeding the car up. As they drove through the dead-cow littered field, the car rocked, sending the passengers bouncing in their seats.

The group passed over a small hill, a building and another road in sight. Martin felt relieved until she realized the German convoy made up of two cars and a tank driving on the road. Elder felt the same well, suddenly nerved at the convoy, and his sergeant driving right towards its’ side. “What the hell are you doing, Sarge?!” he yelled as he poked his head out the window and began shooting his Thompson, causing Martin to lean back in the car to avoid his bullets. “I don’t know,” Moody replied, making Elder scream what. “I just hope whenever I do works,”

“Oh my god, we’re going to die!” Elder shrieked as Moody drove between the two, confusing the enemy. As he passed through, he u-turned, the car’s front looking down their enemy’s path. “Oh my god, hit it! Go!” Elder screeched again as Martin grazed her teeth, shooting out the window at the Germans. Moody changed the gears once again and began driving down the road, the Germans right on their asses. Martin and Elder leaned out the windows, shooting at the enemies. As Elder aimed for the drivers and passengers, Martin went with a different path, attempting to shoot out their tires.

Martin smiled as she heard a loud pop, and the first car went twirling off the road into the side field like a ballerina. “Come on you guys, stop ‘em!” Moody yelled as the two privates redirected their aim to the second car. As they swerved down the curved road, Martin struggled to lock on to the tires, and became more frustrated as the German passenger stood up and began returning fire. She stopped firing for a moment, only for one of Elder’s bullets to pierce the driver and send them flying off the road. “Good job!” She yelled into the backseat, and Elder created her a smile.

She turned forward right as Moody shifted them into one of the many French villages, which just happened to be filled with German soldiers. It seemed that everywhere Moody turned in the small town, a tank was hidden. He let out curses as he led the car through, swerving and turning constantly into alleyways and through the town’s streets. As they approached a broken brick wall that led into the forest, relief filled the air, happy with their successfully escape. Suddenly a tank turned into the wall, blocking their exit, triggering Moody to swerve last second into an alleyway on the right. Moody drove down the small road with Martin looking out the back window at the tank, it’s large metal shaft turning towards the car and firing right over the hood. Martin cringed and Elder snuggled into the seat, whispering words Martin couldn’t hear.

“God damnit! It’s a dead end,” Moody yelled, gearing the car in reverse. As they backed up, a German car pulled out, wrecking their vehicle. The Americans crawled out of the car swiftly, Martin coughing and Elder arguing with Moody. “Oh, hey, great! Good move! Remind me to thank the Captain!” Elder yelled over engine’s smoke. “Shut up Elder, let’s go!” Moody returned, grabbing Elder’s arm and pulling him into a nearby house with Martin following. Bullets flew past them when they entered the house, Martin taking place behind a wall and Elder and Moody behind a couch. As she shot through the hallway towards the enemy, Elder complained.

“I can’t believe I agreed to do this,” he mumbled as Martin finished off the last German and followed Moody down the hallway. “Don’t you remember? You volunteered because Martin was-“ Moody began, quickly cut off by Elder who started yodeling. “Both of you, please stop,” Martin slapped Elder’s back and walked past him towards the exit of the house, kicking the door open. “Sorry,” they both mumbled as they followed her.

Moody, Martin, and Elder ran into the houses backyard, pushing themselves against a wall as they scouted the street. “Hey, across the street there, a car!” Elder said happily, pointing at a wooden house’s driveway, where a civilian car sat idly. “Elder, ever steal a car?” Moody asked as they began sprinting across the street. The group reached the car successfully, Elder popping open the door and crouching to the wires. “Only when I need one, Sarge,” he chuckled, banging the wire’s compartment and sending the piece of metal onto the driver’s floor.

While Elder hotwired the car, Germans approached from the West. “Damn Elder, hurry up!” Moody ordered over the sudden gunfire. Martin poked her head out from cover and shot three Germans, killing one of them and sending two to the dirt. She watched, impressed, and Moody shot down two.  “I’m workin’ on it, Sarge!” Elder replied as he shocked himself, his hands backing away, but quickly remembering the situation and moving back to his goal. “Quit workin’ and get it done!” Moody replied, jumping behind one of the garage’s walls to avoid fire.

Elder looked over the car door quickly at the Germans who were quickly approached. They were outnumbered, and he trembled. “Our father, who art in Heaven,” he began whispering to himself as he hotwired, reciting the prayer. “God’s busy! This is on you!” Moody scolded, leaning his Thompson out and killing another German.

Martin couldn’t tell if the Germans were really getting closer or if it was just her imagination. She shot down two just as Elder’s happy voice rang through the garage. “I got it! I got it!” He yelled, hopping into the car quickly, his two friend following soon after. “Alright, step on it! Get us out of here!” Moody slapped Elder’s right shoulder, and the car propelled forwards, bouncing a German off the hood. Martin continued to fire as Elder drove, her recoil hitting her wound from the day before. She yelped as Elder drove through a wooden fence, hitting more Germans that fired at them. “Come on, Elder! Faster! Hit it!” Moody yelled at the anxious private. “I AM driving faster!” Elder replied, crashing through more wooden fences before turning right.

They reached the broken brick wall that the tank had blocked them off from early, and Elder drove straight through. “Turn right, up here,” Moody said while Elder was in the middle of turning in the direction. “What’s it look like I’m doing, damnit?” the private said angrily, his face flushed. “You mean besides getting us killed?” Moody yelled at him, spitting all over the car as he hollered. Martin twitched as the two men began arguing again. It was hardly the time or the place.

_“Hey, I’m just finishing the job!”_

It suddenly became silent except for the humming engine, and tension filled the air. Martin noticed as Elder’s anger became fear out of his statement, and Moody calmed down.  Martin knew Elder was scared this entire time. He had volunteered to go back to base, not run on foot while he was shot at by tanks and footmen. Moody had suddenly realized this, and took off his helmet and threw it down into the foot space.

“I’m sorry, Sergeant. I didn’t mean to say that,” Elder said quietly as he turned onto the dirt road. Moody ignored him and scratched his shaved head uncomfortably. “We cleared the German lines. You can slow down, Elder,” Moody said calmly, no trace of anger in his voice. Elder continued to drive the same erratic speed as he had been doing the entire time. “I said, you can slow down!” Moody said louder, the car suddenly breaking to a lower speed. “Oh, uh, sorry, Sarge,” Elder whispered. “Right turn, right here,” Moody pointed at a road ahead, and Elder turned. Martin looked out into the grey sky as they spoke. “Yup, you got it. You got it,” Elder said, slowing down the car as they reached a barn with American soldiers guarding the front.

“Alright,” Moody said, slamming the car down and causing Elder to flinch. “I gotta report to Major Sheppard and get our orders. Take five, but stay in the car,” Elder and Martin watched as strut away into the barn, the door shutting behind him. “Okey doke, Sarge. What the hell else am I going to do?” Martin heard Elder murmur as he turned off the car.

It was silent except for the wind that ruffled the trees. Martin could hear Elder picking his finger anxiously, and she gazed out from where they had driven in. “You’re not doing bad, you know,” Martin said, climbing into the passenger seat where Moody had been sitting. Elder reddened as Martin brushed against him, plopping down next to him and staring at him with her large brown eyes. He was flustered, unsure what to say, but he removed her from his gaze and suddenly felt better.

“That’s not good enough. Sarge is obviously disappointed in me,” He sighed, staring at the dancing trees ahead of him. Martin was quiet, unsure what to say to bring him back to his normal self. She gazed in the direction he did, sitting in silence as they watched leaves fall onto the ground.

“The wind yells, but the tree stays planted. It may shake, but it doesn’t fall, that’s what matters,” Martin spoke finally, facing her friend. He watched her with a blank look before smiling and letting out a hopeless laugh. “Damn, that’s so deep, Julie. Did you read that out of a book?” He asked, pushing her playfully away. She let out a small breath, smiling.


	4. Of What We Sustain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the battlefield, Martin, Elder, and Moody encounter a medic, afraid and shaking. Moody yells at him, causing Elder to defend the medic. Moody remains angry and performs a risky move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao my chapter summaries are shit sorry. im just stupey is all

Brecourt Manor, Le Grand Chemin, France

June 6, 1944

9:00 AM

“Of what we sustain, of what we learn,” – Unknown

 

“Thirty squad, get your thirty cal to cover our flank. Second squad, follow in reverse,” Moody addressed three men that had been assigned to help out the sergeant. As they ran off to follow their orders, Moody turned to Martin and Elder. Martin eyed Elder, who was focused on the sergeant. She could tell he was still nervous from yesterday, and it upset her. She had tried to make him feel better, but in the end could not tell if she succeeded. “You two- on my tail. Let’s go,” Moody turned towards them, waving his hand and sprinting across the open green field.

Martin thought about their mission- secure enemy maps and documents. She wondered if Elder would be able to function properly for the mission, or if he would break down like yesterday. Foley wasn’t there luckily, which meant she could keep an eye on Elder and take care of him if anything happened. They made their way up to a tree that was surrounded by more American soldiers, and crouched. “They got MG42s up ahead,” Moody said, then pointing at two other Americans. “Go draw their fire from the left,” he pointed over to the left of the nest. “Martin, Elder, we’re hitting right. Go!”

The soldiers ran ahead and began drawing the nest’s fire as Martin, Elder, and Moody made their way up the right side. As soon as Martin realized they were close enough, she rained fire down into the MG42 nest, killing the inhabitants.  As Martin approached, she saw the cannon planted in the trenches, large and grey. Moody ran ahead of her and slapped an explosive on the cannon, sprinting away and calling, “Move back and take cover! This cannon is about to go boom!”

Martin sprinted deeper into the trench and away from the cannon alongside Elder, who awkwardly shuffled behind moldy wood to avoid the explosion. She waited patiently as the cannon erupted, sending pieces of metal flying through the air and landing all over the French field, in the flowers and the trampled grass. Moody wasted no time with the next order; “Get up, we’re moving deeper into the trench,” he called into the smoke, standing up and running deeper. Martin and Elder followed obediently, racing to keep up with the older man.

They turned a corner in the trench, and sudden MG42 fire reigned around them. The group dropped swiftly into the mud, dirtying their uniforms. Martin shot two Germans that were in the trench, and jumped past Moody to clear the trenches. “Martin, what the hell are you doing?!” Moody yelled as she pushed past him into a small nest embedded into the trench. Martin ran through, shooting two Germans with her Thompson, MG42 bullets flying past her. She dived down once the next was clear and began fumbling through, shooting any Germans that showed their faces.

Moody and Elder struggled to keep up with her fast pace. Unlike her, they couldn’t just get shot and be fine. “Sarge, maybe we should just let her-“ Elder began, placing his hand on Moody’s shoulder. The latter slapped his hand away, causing Elder to flinch. “No! I’m not letting her do my damn job! Come on!” Moody yelled, shoving Elder forward. They ran through the trenches, finally catching up with Martin, who has already cleared the nest, waiting for Moody.

✲✲✲✲

After Moody planted an explosion on the next cannon, they entered a small German base in a hill. It was a blood bath making it through- the group suffered causalities even with the help of the Claymore, who could only watch as people died. They ran through the dirty halls until they reached a coms room. Old wooden pallets covered the radio room’s floor, covered in dirty footprints that the Germans had left behind. On them sat ammo crates, and the tables that held radios and documents. “Martin, grab those enemy documents,” Moody ordered, pointing towards the table where they waited patiently for her small hand.

She grabbed the documents, securing them in her storage. They ran out of the base and back into more trenches that were littered with the blood injured allies. In the center against a well sat an American medic, who held his head rocking back in forth. Moody looked around where the bullets sourced- green patches of grass and tall trees, a large on in the center of the battlefield. Against the tree laid an injured American, barely clinging to life. Moody  faced back down to the cowardly medic and ran up to him, grabbing his uniform and forcing him up.

The medic’s eyes were filled with tears and fear, and he gasped as Moody shook him. “There’s a wounded man by that tree,” he screamed in the young man’s face, pointing towards the large tree. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Moody asked, shoving him back down. Elder watched, concerned for the medic, debating whether or not to say anything. He decided not to, and continued to shoot towards the fire alongside Martin. “Sarge, I’m sorry, I can’t,” the medic cried, listing out his excuses. “Oh god, so many guys are getting killed,” he breathed as one of the men fell down in the trench, blood seeping from his chest wounds.

“You need to go out there and do your damn job!” Moody yelled once more, pausing his fire and grabbing the medic up again. The medic looked over towards the Germans side, breathing heavily. “Man, they’re shooting medics too! They’re not-“ he paused mid-sentence, a bullet flying through his head and killing him. The medic fell to the ground, next to the man that had died earlier. Elder and Martin paused and looked over, concerned, and panicked as Moody climbed over the ridge and out of the trench.

“Sarge, what the hell are you doing?!” Elder yelled fearfully as Martin watched. “Shut up and just give me covering fire!” Moody replied, sprinting towards the tree as bullets danced around him and splattered mud from the ground. Martin began shooting as Elder watched, entranced, unsure what to do. He was caught in the moment, afraid, as he had earlier. “Tom, shoot at the Germans,” Martin nudged, gaining his attention. He looked back at her, his eyes wide contracting and his cheeks flushed, and began shooting at their shooters.

Moody grabbed the unconscious soldier as he reached the tree, not hesitating as he swung him onto his back. Moody sprinted back through the bullets, which had lessened due to the enemy causalities, and landed back in the trench, swinging the wounded man off and gently leaning him against the trench’s wall. He turned back to Elder and Martin, his feature soft. “You guys move on with squad two,” he ordered calmly, gesturing towards the remaining American soldiers that made their way deeper into the trench. “And Martin, take these explosives. I’ll stay behind and patch this guy up,” Moody finished, handing his remaining explosives to the woman. “Yes sir,” Elder and Martin said in unison, running off to catch up with their squad. Martin turned her head briskly towards her sergeant who stayed behind to patch up the man.


	5. Alps Chateau

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After receiving a letter from her sister Rico to retrieve her captain and major, Foley decides to plan a rescue mission at the request of the two women.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> since im an idiot who can't keep track of things, I've made a wikia for this series here:
> 
> https://call-of-claymore.fandom.com/wiki/Call_of_Claymore_Wiki
> 
> feel free to go on there and sicko mode :P there's also faceclaims for the grils there too UwU

Trimbach, France

August 2, 1944

8:34 AM

“You can kid the world, but not your sister,” – Charlotte Gray

 

“First platoon, listen up,” Foley said, gaining the attention of the group. He looked over to his sergeant, a wide smile on his face. “Sergeant Moody owes me fifty bucks, 'cause it looks like Operation Overlord was a success,” everyone laughed except for Moody, who only grumbled in response. “I am extremely proud of all of you. As you know, Sergeant Moody and Privates Elder and Martin broke through German lines to get word to HQ. If it wasn't for their success, HQ probably would not have sent the reinforcements that helped us hold Sainte-Mère-Église. Moody, Elder and Martin were assigned to silence a German battery at Brecourt Manor, and faced an entire platoon of Germans with only a handful of men,” Foley paused, and a few of the men clapped. “Well, it seems that someone in command noticed your actions,” Elder and Martin looked attentively at Foley, confused.

“Our unit has been detached from the rest of the 101st, so it can be used for some special missions behind enemy lines. I suggest you brush up on your German, and enjoy your R&R while you can. Dismissed,” Foley said finally. Everyone stood up and left except for Martin and Elder, who stayed behind. “Special missions?” Elder stood up, asking the captain. Foley walked over to the table and began scribbling at the map. “Yes, private. That’s what I’ve been told. I don’t have any other details at the moment, but I’ll alert you both once I’ve been updated,” Foley looked up and smiled at the nervous young man. Martin stood up as Foley finished his sentence.

“Let’s go, Elder. The captain has work to do, I’m sure,” Martin said, lightly grabbing Elder’s wrist and pulling him out of the old house that Foley and Moody were stationed in. Martin and Elder walked outside of the house, Martin breathing in deeply the cold air. Elder stopped in his tracks, pulling Martin to yield with him. “What do you think the captain meant by special missions?” Elder asked her nervously. His features were tense but his face was overall soft, his flush cheeks and lips making him look permanently embarrassed. Martin smiled and moved her hand from his wrist to his warm hand, wrapping it around hers.

His face reddened deeper as he looked down to her hands, then to her face. Despite his embarrassment he stood still, awaiting her words. “No matter what the mission is, I won’t let anything bad happen,” Martin asserted, her hands still around Elder’s. He blinked rapidly as she spoke, his heart in tone. “Do you believe me?” She asked him, looking up into his eyes. He stared into hers, and smiled. “Yes,” he said simply, and she squeezed his hands and let go.

✲✲✲✲

Trimbach, France

August 4, 1944

8:00 AM

 

“ _My dear sister Julie, I have been told that you are stationed in France, so if you don’t receive this letter I’ll be removing someone’s head!_ _❤_ _(P.S: IF YOU’RE NOT JULIE MARTIN DON’T READ THIS LETTER THIS IS FOR HER) alright so now that you have the letter Julie I’m going to say what I wanna say. First off, my captain (Charles Price) AND the major (Gerald Ingram) of where I am have been taken by the Germans and basically I’ve been told that I can’t do shit about it, but the Americans can. If you could kindly bother the living hell out of your captain about taking the mission I’d appreciate it! Love you! – Rico”_

Julie set the letter down on her cot and sighed. She could hear Rico’s annoying voice as she read the letter in her head, her voice chipper and loud. She picked up the letter and scanned it over once more, debating what to do with it. After minutes of silence, she stood up and walked out of the quarters in search of Foley.

✲✲✲✲

Bavarian Alps, Germany

August 7, 1944

1:30 AM

 

The captain, to her surprise, had agreed to the mission, and contacted the British forces concerning the involved parties. In less than four days, the mission had a set date, a location, and a squad assembled.

At one thirty AM on August seventh, Martin was crouched behind her captain and next to Elder, the latter of who kept swatting at bugs that flew around the air. With all honesty, Martin didn’t want to be there. She was only doing it because of her sister. She didn’t even know who Price or Ingram were- but if they were important to Rico, they were important to her also. Martin had parachuted for the second time ever that night, this time into Austria instead of France. Despite the different countries, the air felt the same.

Intelligence sources had told them that Price and Ingram were being held in a Chateau in the Bavarian Alps, and as soon as they landed and began walking, Moody began complaining and stole a German truck to drive to the perimeter.

Once they had gotten close to the Chateau, Moody hid the truck nearby and scouted ahead, ending the story to where Martin was presently crouched on a faded road under a street light. Moody approached soon, sprinting up to Foley and crouching to his level. “There’s an MG42 on the left, with a guard house on the right. They didn’t spot me,” he finished. The captain smirked, and pat Moody’s arm. “Let’s hope. Did you spot Captain Price or Major Ingram?” Foley asked the sergeant. Moody swatted a bug on his neck and readjusted his helmet. “I saw a big house up the road. I put… Ten bucks that they’re in there,” he bet. “Deal,” Foley finished, standing up and turning to the group.

“Harding and Brooks, go get the truck, and meet us at the front of the Chateau. Rest of you, on me. Move!” Foley ordered, everyone following the order. Martin ran down the street with Elder, Moody, and Foley on her heels. As they turned the corner of the streets, MG42 bullets fired around them. “Take cover!” Moody yelled, causing the squad to dive behind certain parts of cover.

Martin dove behind a rock, adjusted her BAR to shoot semi-auto, peaked out of cover, and shot down the MG42 with four bullets. “Move up!” Foley yelled, running up the street. Martin switched to her Thompson and shot down a few Germans that hid behind grey cars painted with the Iron Cross. The Germans screamed orders to each other in their language, but despite this, could not escape their deaths. The Claymore twisted to shoot a German leaving the guard’s building, the door opening and German propaganda shooting out at her. “Clear!” She yelled, signaling to the squad.

“Good work, Martin. Everyone breathe deep, catch your breath. Now, we need to do this all over again,” Foley said as he breathed deeply. Elder let out an irritated groan, and Moody snapped. “Don’t complain, Elder, it’s not like you have anywhere else to be,” he chuckled. The squad began running up the hill towards the large house Moody had mentioned earlier. Crickets chirped in the night, their noise filling the tense air. It was surprisingly bright outside, Martin thought to herself as she ran. She looked up to the moon covered in foggy white clouds, their light cascading over them.

As they approached the house, bullets whizzed past, the group jumping behind cover quickly. Two Germans stood in the road, firing automatics. Martin jumped suddenly out of cover and filled them full of lead, their screams filling the air as they died. The group continued to the house, passing through a lit gate and shooting at a truck filled with Germans that pulled up suddenly as they walked through. “Move up,” Foley said as he ran passed her towards the truck, using it for cover.

The night air was suddenly quiet with the exception of nature. “Clear,” Martin said, loud enough for the squad to hear. She studied the Chateau. In the front was a beautiful white fountain that had dried up, surrounded by a small grass garden. The house was large, with white curtains inside and a wooden edge.

“Move up to the backyard, there’s a path on the left,” Moody ordered, and they followed. Sure enough was the path, smooth stone leading into the backyard. The Americans walked down it cautiously, aiming their guns at anything that seemed to move. They eventually met the end of the path and turned right into the backyard, where the Germans awaited them, shooting soon as they walked out. Martin ran across the entrance for cover, and yelped when a bullet hit her in the shoulder from above.

She looked up to see a patio, and a man with a Kar98k, who was reloading, prepared to shoot again. Instead, Martin shot him, sending him screaming off the balcony as he hit the hard ground. The squad ran out, clearing the backyard, and Martin followed. They began sprinting along the house’s right stone path, preparing to breach into the home.

“Alright squad. Let’s get in there, grab any docs, knock out their coms. Understood?” Foley asked the squad, waiting for the nodding of heads, and then kicked the door open, not waiting to fire. No enemies were on the other side, so the squad advanced through, shooting any Germans they came in contact with. Martin studied the clear white walls of the house, and the weirdly patterned floor. The doors had gold trimmings, as if someone had tried to match it with the floor, but failed. As she shot the enemy, their blood covered the interior, turning the white to red.

A German suddenly kicked a door open and began shooting her, the bullets ripping through her chest and sending her falling backwards onto the ugly floor. She heard someone scream her name, and saw Foley shoot into the German and kill him.

Elder ran up to where she laid, falling unto his knees and grabbing her face. She looked at him, confused, while he panicked. “Oh my god, oh my god, please don’t die,” he kept repeating as she watched. She heard Moody laugh, and was suddenly thrown up on her feet. “She’s fine, Elder. She’s a Claymore. Doesn’t even feel it,” Moody said to the panicking man, who was now crying. Foley and a few other men ran into the room where the German had busted out of and began shooting, killing any remaining Germans.

“She still got shot!” Elder said, now holding Martin’s hand, her other one being held by Moody. The sounds of bullets being shot filled the air, but the two men ignored it, and continued to fight over her. “Yes, she did, but she’s fine, right, Martin?” Moody finally asked, a smirk on his face. He was right, she was fine, but Elder still stood next to her trembling, squeezing her right hand. She turned to him. “I’m fine,” she stated simply. She prepared herself to say something else, but was interrupted by the now angry captain.

“Hey, we’re in the middle of something. Settle this later!” Foley screamed in the next room, and Moody let go of her, heading to his voice. Martin attempted to follow, but Elder stood still, her hand still in his tightly. “Tom, I’m fine,” she said, smiling. He let go and let her move into the next room, blood pouring out of her chest.

  ✲✲✲✲

The room was adorned in swastikas, all hung over possibly the ugliest wallpaper Martin had ever seen in her entire life. The floor was as equally ugly; and not just because it was littered with German bodies. She quickly exited the large room, following Foley and Moody who turned into a left hallway, a statue of a knight at the end. As they entered, they observed the room, noticing that paintings hung all over the walls.

“Is this some sort of art museum?” Moody asked quietly, with no one responding. They continued through the rooms, where paintings of angels and demons watched down on them. The squad entered a new room, Martin assuming it was the entrance to the house, since she recognized the front doors. There was stairs leading to the top portion of the house, and the Americans traveled up, turning into a left hallway, and then left onto the porch where the German had shot her in the shoulder earlier. They traveled into the second part of the house, where there were somehow even more swastikas. The group eliminated the Germans, headed downstairs, into a dining room.

“What now?” Moody asked, irritated, as he tried opening one of the doors just to find it locked. She heard Foley sigh, and then watched as he looked around the room. “Try looking for anything that seems out of place,” he said, messing around with the candles on the table. Elder went over to the curtains, and Moody continued to mess with the door.

Martin scanned the room, her eyes settling on the fireplace. On both sides of the fireplace were two eagle statues- the one on the right, though, was moved sideways. Martin walked over and twisted it to the same position as the left, and the fireplace rumbled, it’s back suddenly turning to its side for entrance. “Good job, Martin,” Foley smiled as he ran past her, Moody patting her back and Elder smiling. They entered the bricked room, flags of swastikas planted into the walls. Martin watched as Foley shot into a group of radios, bullets piercing the machines and making them spark.

“Alright, let’s move on,” Foley said, turning away from the now-broken machines and heading downstairs into the wine cellar. Packs of Germans were spread across the wine cellar, shooting the Americans as they entered. Foley, Moody, Elder, and Martin shot them and pushed through, relieved as they finally reached what looked like cell doors. Martin watched as Foley looked into each slot, a smile painting his face as he found one of the officers.

Martin walked over by Foley as he opened the door. “Well, goodness me, Americans! Made quite a racket, didn’t you?” The Brit chuckled, seated on a wooden bench in the cell. Foley walked in the cell, prepared to help the man up. “That’s quite all right. I can still walk,” the man said happily and stood up, only to fall and have Foley catch him. “You sure about that?” Foley joked, and they both laughed. “I’m Captain Luther Foley, and that’s Private Martin. We’ll be escorting you out,” Foley said, helping the man stand back up.

“Ah, much appreciated. I’m Captain Charles Price, happy to be your acquaintance,” he grabbed Foley’s hand and shook it wildly, a large smile on under his handlebar mustache. “Where’s the Major?” Martin finally asked, and the two men turned their gazes to her. “Ah, you’re Rico’s sister. The Major has been moved to a camp. But don’t worry, I know where.”


End file.
